Page 49 of Dirty Player
He rocked his hips forward, drawing my attention downward.
“You’re an ass,” I whispered, scrubbing my hair but still unable to take my eyes off his hand wrapped around his long and thick erection.
He was beautiful. Strong and sinewy and every muscle in his abdomen bunched and flexed as he slowly stroked himself.
He was a jerk, or he could be, but he was also quick to apologize as if he couldn’t believe the things he spoke sometimes. Like he didn’t want to be who he’d become, but didn’t know how to stop it.
“Tell me you don’t want my dick in your throat, that you don’t want to leave today with the taste of my cum in your mouth.”
I rinsed my hair before he stepped into the spray, washing himself.
Soap rolled down his body while he scrubbed himself with his hands, cupping his balls and cleaning off his dick.
I stood frozen, and my hands fell to my sides as I licked the drops of water off my lips.
“You want it, don’t you? You want me more than you think you should, but you can’t help yourself.”
He read me like an open book. I still challenged him by arching a brow.
“And you?” I asked, unable to stop myself from moving toward him and reaching for him. He was right. I did want the taste of him deep in my throat. “Does it piss you off that you want me so much?”
I dropped to my knees and licked along his shaft. His hand fell from his dick to my head, pushing water off my forehead.
“Fuck. Yes, it pisses me off.”
I looked up at him from on my knees. Satisfaction trilled through my veins at his admission.
“Suck me harder. Deeper.”
His commands shot through me, making me flush. Never had I been so excited to get on my knees for a man, or had I thought being told what to do would be such a fucking turn-on. Out of bed, it rankled me.
Inside of it, or in the shower—or anytime I had my hands on Oliver or his were on my body—it made me needy, desperate for him.
I wrapped my hand around his shaft, pulling and tugging as my mouth went to work on him. His hands cupped my cheeks, holding me in place while he fucked my mouth. Every thrust of his hips forward drove me crazy, making me gag, and tears fell from my eyes.
“Relax your throat,” he whispered, gentling his hold on me. “Open it and take me deeper. You can do it.”’
He pushed forward slowly, the tip of him scraping against the back of my throat.
I began to take more of him while he slowly moved forward and retreated. He gave me time to breathe and adjust. Every glide of his dick against my throat made me grow wetter until I dropped one hand to my center and rubbed my clit.
“That’s it,” he murmured encouragingly. “Get yourself off because I’m not coming in your throat. I’m coming all over your fucking gorgeous tits.”
My body trembled at his words, but I complied.
I wanted whatever he wanted.
“Faster,” he said. “Spread your legs. Your mouth feels so full, so fucking good on my dick.”
I built up the heat in my body as his thrusts came quicker.
“Fuck,” he groaned, his movements becoming more erratic.
I whimpered around his cock, my orgasm coiling inside me. It was barreling down on me, making my pulse speed. My movements around his dick turned frenetic from the impending rush that would flood my veins.
“Fucking hurry, Shannon.” He grunted, moved faster, and I put my hand back on his shaft to stop him from pushing too hard.
He slapped my hand away and glared down at me. “You’ll fucking take what I give you and you’ll love it, every single fucking time.”
